


Polaris

by LiaoftheDawn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fantasy, First Meetings, Inspired by Frozen (2013), M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15635799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiaoftheDawn/pseuds/LiaoftheDawn
Summary: “They say the prince is monstrous,”“They say his eyes will freeze your heart.”The rumors won't deter Yuuri's excitement, as he sails to the distant land of Kiev to attend the coronation of its new king, who has been hidden from the world for more than 10 years.





	Polaris

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission fic for Sarah! Thanks for sending me this cute idea, I loved writing it!

It's a cold winter morning and the sunlight makes the whole room so bright it hurts his eyes. Victor generally likes the brightness, but it proves much too cheerful for his current mood. He stands by the window, gazing longingly at the people outside preparing the castle's yard to receive hundreds of guests. How long has it been since he has been able to interact with people freely?

"Oi, Victor! You planning to stay in there all day? Get your ass moving!"

Victor flinches. "I'm coming, Yuri, no need for the profanity." He replies airily. At least his little brother keeps the castle lively with his fiery character and unrestrained honesty. Victor isn't sure if that is going to fly very well with today's distinguished guests, but at the very least it is sure to rise some interest in what otherwise promises to be an abysmally dull event.

His fingers graze the glass of the window and it crackles as a thin layer of ice grows over the surface around the area he touched. Victor pulls his hand away with a jolt and hurries to put on his gloves. His chest tightens. A part of him wishes he could cancel the whole thing and avoid exposing everyone to his curse.

"Don't see your ass moving yet!" Yuri insists with a growl.

Victor adjusts the lapels of his pink outfit, the golden accents on his shoulders, makes sure every button is in place and swallows heavily before finally stepping out of the room. He finds Yuri leaning against the wall outside, arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. Victor feels the urge to poke the wrinkles in his forehead, but he holds his hands behind his back instead. Too risky.

"About damned time. I thought I'd have to remind you that we can't hold a coronation ceremony if the idiot getting crowned is absent."

 

* * *

 

"Lord Katsuki, we will reach the port soon, you should get ready to disembark."

Yuuri inhales sharply, eyes widening with the sight of the city they are fast approaching. Even with a significant amount of leagues of water in between, he can still see the tall castle tower with the flag of Kiev waving under the winter sun. He clutches his coat tightly around his shoulders as a cool breeze caresses his cheeks.

Tales of the prince of Kiev have reached Yuuri's ears for years. A beautiful, charismatic young prince, tragically orphaned, who possessed a mysterious magic and shut himself away from the world after uniting the Kievan clans.

" _They say the prince is monstrous_ ," one of the sailors said one night.

" _They say his eyes will freeze your heart."_  The cook once told him over breakfast.

" _They say he was cursed by the gods_." The captain claimed ominously when they first boarded the ship.

But the whispers and rumors have done nothing to deter Yuuri. The story has always sounded as fantastical as the stories of Amaterasu in the cave of Ama-no-Iwato, so the idea of getting to meet the mythical prince in person is oddly exciting.

"Prepare for landing!" The first mate calls, his voice explosive over the deck.

At last, Yuuri takes his eyes away from the castle and turns towards his quarters. There's an odd feeling in his gut, one he has never felt before. Like something incredible is about to happen.

 

* * *

 

Victor breathes in and out slowly, standing at the door of the throne room. His fingers hover above the door handle, still not ready to push it. His chest is tight with anxiety, and he tries to remember what his parents used to tell him.

" _It's your gift, Vitya; a part of you. Just like your hands or your feet. You can do anything you want with it."_

Of course, that was before the god of the ocean swallowed their ship, leaving him alone to unite the clans and care for Yuri. And then, what was supposed to be a gift revealed itself as a curse that could harm all that Victor held most dear.

He shakes his head and grips the door handles firmly. Nothing happens. Determined to get this over with quickly, he pushes the doors open and stands there, trying to appear confident and solemn.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Victor of the Nikiforov Clan."

All eyes turn to look at him. Apart from the representatives of the Clans, the hall is crowded with people Victor has never met, all staring at him, measuring him, their curious eyes prying into the depths of his soul. By their faces and their attires, he can tell the invitations he sent to the most distinguished rulers and nobles of the known world were answered positively. That is at least one thing he did right, and now it's on him not to ruin what can otherwise become a very fruitful gathering for the future of his budding kingdom.

He finally reaches the steps at the end of the room, where his mentor and counselor Yakov awaits, in his formal priestly attire, holding a purple velvet cushion with the gold scepter with which the king shall rule the land and the orb with the sigils of the five united clans. Yuri stands in the right corner, his posture tense. His hair is braided in a way that makes the white streak on the right side of his head stand out even among his already pale blond locks. Victor's stomach twists.

"Your Highness shall now hold the sacred regalia with his  _bare hands_." Yakov announces, and Victor jolts at the unsubtle demand.

Slowly, his hands trembling, he removes his gloves and puts them aside. His fingers feel extremely cold and exposed. He wonders if anyone can see how violently his hands are shaking as he picks up the two items. Yakov is droning on somewhere, but Victor can't focus enough to make out what he's saying, all his energy zoned in on his bare fingers holding the regalia. His skin prickles and he starts to feel ice trickling over the gold scepter. How long has it been? Has anyone noticed yet? How long will this ceremony last? The ice is spreading fast, faster, and Victor feels cold growing from within his chest, out of control and—

"Will you abide by this oath?"

Victor snaps back to the present. Yakov is staring at him, frowning with impatience, but still visibly concerned. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes until he can feel his heartbeat steadying down.

"I pledge my word."

 

* * *

 

Yuuri holds his breath as the new king bows his head and the priest places the jeweled crown atop his shimmering silver hair.

"Long live the King."

King Victor turns around to face the audience at last. Yuuri didn't get a good look at him before, when he was rushing down the corridor with tense shoulders. But now, as the crowd echoes the priest's proclamation and his eyes find those of the king, his heart stops beating altogether.

He has never seen someone so beautiful. The king has pale skin, a light blush highlighting his pointed nose and smooth cheeks, short hair the color of moonlight, blue eyes clear like winter sky, softly curved pink lips, a sharp jaw and a regal posture that makes him look unattainable.

Not knowing what comes over him, Yuuri finds himself standing face to face with King Victor, heart beating so fast it feels like a buzz in his chest. He gapes, and the king raises an elegant eyebrow as Yuuri ridiculously scrambles for words. His throat is too dry to speak, but he remembers what he has read of etiquette and customs in the Western lands, and he extends his trembling right hand towards the King.

The king stares at him with stunned wide eyes and his arm twitches slightly, but he doesn't take Yuuri's hand. A crushing awkward silence fills the room the longer Yuuri stands there with his stretched palm –a sign of goodwill and trust, he had read-, whilst the other guests start gathering behind him to formally greet the new king. At last, dejected and humiliated, Yuuri runs out of the room.

 

* * *

 

By the time Victor has gotten his gloves back on, the beautiful man with the oriental attire and the warmest brown eyes is gone, and there's already a large group of guests gathered to present gifts and congratulations. Victor hopes against all hopes that the mysterious man will be present for the ball at least, so he can compensate for his terrible impoliteness.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri lost track of time quite a while ago, and he also lost track of how much wine he was consuming. Expectedly, the room around him is little but a blur, the lights, voices and music make him dizzy. The worst part of it is he hasn't even forgotten what drove him to drink so much in the first place. He had studied so much to make a good impression once he met the mythical King, but instead he made a complete fool of himself, so much that the king wouldn't even shake his hand. What a representative he is of the Katsuki clan. To think that such a beautiful king doesn't deem Yuuri worthy of even the minimal acknowledgment.

His eyes go to the dance floor, where many distinguished guests are dancing to the music of Western instruments Yuuri had only ever seen once or twice before. As he watches the colorful dresses swirl by, someone bumps into him, and the glass of wine he's holding is spilled all over the stranger's attire.

"What the fuck? Why are you standing in the way, dumbass?"

Yuuri's blood boils. He squints at the stranger, only barely making out his pale blond hair. In that moment, the music changes, and it's replaced by a melody he once heard when the Namban traders visited his father's state, bringing their Western products, their art, their books and their music.

He turns to look at the angry blond boy. He's been humiliated enough today, he won't allow a rude child to step over him too.

"I challenge you!"

 

* * *

 

Victor sits on a high chair in the far end of the ballroom, from where he has a good vantage point to watch over the people dancing. The food and alcohol are abundant and the mood of the room is cheerful and celebratory. In spite of his own holdbacks and his own downtrodden spirits, it seems this event has been a success. He just deeply regrets his unfortunate meeting with the oriental man earlier.

Over the course of the night, many have approached him and asked for a dance, but Victor has rejected them all. He strokes the fabric of his gloves absentmindedly. He can't risk it.

A commotion in the center of the dance floor draws Victor's attention. People are clapping and cheering, standing in a circle, but he can't make out who or what is happening in the middle of it. His curiosity piqued, he stands from the chair for the first time and cautiously approaches the growing crowd. Careful not to touch anyone, he makes his way through the people until he finally gets to the center of the circle, and the sight that meets his eyes is even more unexpected than he could have imagined. His little brother is lying on the floor sweating and panting, his eyes burning with fury as he blabbers "I haven't… lost yet…". And not far from him is that shy oriental man with the warm brown eyes, also panting and covered in sweat, his cheeks flushed the color of roses, his expression one of triumphant satisfaction. Victor's heart skips a beat. He looks… dashingly attractive.

The man looks up at him and his eyes brighten. Victor flinches, but finds himself unable to move as the man stomps towards him, fiery determination glowing in his eyes.

"Your Majesty!" he proclaims, his voice dragging.

Victor blinks. "Just… just Victor is fine." He manages to say. He's never liked the overdone formalities.

The man appears unfazed. "Dance with me!" he says, and his hand reaches for Victor's.

Victor pulls back, afraid once again even with his gloves on. He's already slighted this handsome young man too much, he couldn't possibly let his curse—

Undeterred, the man grabs Victor's hand. Victor swallows heavily, eyes fixed on their joined hands. Nothing happens. The man's fingers feel warm even through the fabric of his gloves. The music changes and Victor is pulled to the center of the circle, surprised gasps erupting from the crowd.

"I am Yuuri of the Katsuki clan, from the land of Yamato, and I hereby challenge you to a dance duel." The man declares, letting go of Victor's hand to bow deeply.

Another Yuri. What a curious coincidence.

"A dance… duel?"

Without waiting for his answer, Yuuri grabs his hands once again and leads him into a rapid dance, his movements synchronized with the speed of the music. Victor barely has time to pick up the rhythm and make sure he doesn't step on his dance partner's feet. The fire on Yuuri's eyes is hypnotic, his hold firm and the confidence in his smile makes Victor's knees quiver. It's extremely easy to let himself go, to allow Yuuri to lead him in this chaotic dance. His cheeks hurt. He realizes he's laughing like he hasn't done in a really long time.

"If I win," Yuuri states, tightening his grip on Victor's hand, his free arm surrounding Victor's waist and holding the small of his back as he tilts him down slightly, "give me a chance to get to know you better,  _Victor_." His smile softens and it gives his face a sweeter, kinder look. It's a miracle Victor's knees don't completely give out from under him (and even if they did, Yuuri would be holding him, he realizes).

He isn't sure if it's the kindness of his smile, the warmth of his eyes, the musical way in which he leads the dance or just how his name sounds in Yuuri's voice, or maybe all of it together that makes heat rush to his cheeks, his heart flutter in his chest. For the first time in forever, he forgets about his curse and his fears and he entwines his fingers with Yuuri's tightly.

 

 

For the first time in forever, Victor feels alive.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I got the title for this story because the North Star is mentioned in the Russian version of Let it Go :3. There are also a few historical references because I have a disease induced by my History major and can't help myself OTL.
> 
> I got really excited when I got this request thinking of all the possibilities. Fitting this new world into only 1500 words was impossible, so I went a bit overboard, but I had fun writing it. As always, I like to intertwine YOI canon moments with the AU, having the Sochi banquet here made me very happy ;w; I love Yuuri giving Victor love and life so much it hurts.
> 
> Now as for the status of this story, you can find more info about it and the possibility of a continuation [ here ](https://lia-nikiforov.tumblr.com/post/176860750872/polaris-liaofthedawn-yuri-on-ice-anime)
> 
> For now I do hope everyone enjoys this short piece and I can't wait to hear your thoughts about it!


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